For Better, For Worse
by CycloneT
Summary: "Marry me, Alex. I'll make you happy, I promise." Goren/Eames
1. Chapter 1

The steady rhythm of his breathing keeps her awake. It's been a long time since she's allowed anyone to stay in her bed long enough to get comfortable, let alone fall asleep, and she's not used to it. The heat that emanates from his body warms her though, and the arm that he so casually draped across her chest is heavy and new but somehow soothing. The alcoholic haze of the previous night is starting to lift, and she's almost, but not quite, ready to panic. Because if she remembers the events of the last twelve hours correctly, she is lying beside the man she has just promised to love, honour and cherish 'til death do them part, and she is dimly aware that she's just made the biggest mistake of her life.

It started innocently enough. They'd dropped off a suspect to the LVPD, and since they weren't due to fly out until the next day they'd decided to hit the casinos. An hour or so at the roulette table had made them thirsty, so they'd grabbed a couple of drinks at the bar, which led to a few more drinks, then more drinks still, and by the time they stumbled out they were joking that it was just as well that they couldn't find the car, because neither of them was in a fit state to drive. So they'd decided to walk back to their hotel – they didn't really know where it was, they just picked a direction and started walking – and as they passed a store window depicting a poster of a perfect smiling family in board shorts and tank tops, he'd stopped to look at it and it was a good five or six steps before she realised he was no longer beside her.

"Such a crock," he said, when she called back to him.

"What is?"

"This. Happy families. It's all bullshit."

She walked back to the window and studied the poster. "I don't know; some people seem to manage it."

"Eames, come on. Two thirds of marriages end in divorce. Kids hate their parents, parents resent their kids, and no one talks anymore. They're too busy with their computers and iPods and cell phones and overtime to pay any attention to each other."

She couldn't think of anything to say to that, so she just nodded.

"It's a lonely, lonely life," he finished softly.

"I think you've had too much to drink."

He shook his head ruefully. "You ever get lonely, Eames?"

"I think everyone feels lonely at some point in their life," she answered carefully.

"Yes, but do you?"

"Occasionally," she admitted.

"What do you do to . . . to overcome it?"

"Where is this coming from, Bobby?"

"I'm just curious, that's all."

If her mind hadn't been as clouded as it was then she probably wouldn't have been so candid. But it was, and so she answered him honestly. "Well, I'll call my mother for a chat. Or visit one of the few friends I have left and spend some time catching up. Or invite myself to my sisters for dinner and use any excuse to hug my nephew. Sometimes I'll even go into work on my day off and argue with you." She'd hoped that would force a smile out of him, but it failed.

"So it's all about family?" he pressed.

She thought about it. "Yes. No. Family and friends. Equally."

"What if you don't have any family?"

"You have friends, Bobby," she said softly.

"What if you – if _I_ – didn't want to burden them with my crap in case I scared them away?"

"Then I guess they're not really your friends after all."

"What if –"

"Bobby, would you cut it out with the 'what if's'? It's too late and we're too drunk to be having this conversation."

"Okay, hypothetically then. What if the one person in the world who gave a shit about you stopped caring?"

"You have more people care about you than you know."

"Hypothetical, remember? This isn't about me. But what if this person . . . what if she got fed up with all your crap and gave up? What if you realised that you depended on her for too much of your own happiness, and that it scared the fuck out of you because you know that she'll eventually leave you just like everyone else has?"

"What was the question again?"

"Eames. Please."

She took a deep breath. "Friendship is a two way street. I'm sure this hypothetical person – whoever she is – probably depends on you just as much as you depend on her. She's probably even had cause to wash her hands of you before, am I right?" She didn't wait for his response but barrelled on. "And she's still there. So she obviously sees something of worth there, and she's also obviously not the type to give up on someone easily."

He nodded. "Okay. I can live with that."

"Can we go now? I think I might remember where our hotel is."

"In a minute. I want to . . ."

"What?"

"How drunk are you?"

"Drunk enough."

"You still know who you are?"

"I'm pretty sure I know who I am. Just don't ask me _where_ I am," she joked.

"Good."

She was about to ask him what he was talking about, but before she could his arms encircled her waist and it was another question that needed asking. "Bobby? What are you doing?"

"Something I've run out of excuses not to do," he replied cryptically. And then his lips were on hers, and he was kissing her like there was no tomorrow, and whatever she'd been thinking was gone forever.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," he said when they pulled apart, a little breathless.

"What?" she asked dumbly.

"To kiss you," he explained, as if talking to a two-year-old, and then he kissed her again.

"Oh," Alex said, because what else could she say? She was standing in the middle of the street kissing her partner, and she didn't care that public displays of affection had never been her thing, or that a cool breeze had sprung up, because he was warm and his lips were warmer and suddenly that was all that mattered.

"You . . . this is bad," she said, when he drew back for a second time. "You shouldn't have done that."

"You did it too."

"And I shouldn't have. We need to . . . need to get back to New York."

Bobby nodded as if he were agreeing with her. "We can't go anywhere tonight though. Our flight's not until the morning. But I know something we can do."

She took one look at him and shook her head. "No. We are not doing that. We're in enough trouble as it is."

He laughed at her. He actually _laughed_. "No, not that. At least, not yet."

"Goren," she warned.

"Eames, hear me out. Why don't we do what most people do when they come to Vegas? Let's get married."

"What? No. Are you out of your mind?"

"Depends who you talk to. But believe it or not I've never been more sane."

"Quit it. It's not funny."

"I'm not joking."

"Yes you are."

"I'm not, and you know I'm not."

"We can't get married."

"Why not?"

She wanted to list all the reasons why it was impossible, but her brain was foggy and she could really only think of one reason. "Because you haven't asked me yet."

"Do you want me to get down on my knees? Because I'll do it for you. No?" he noted as she shook her head. He took hold of her hands and pressed a kiss in each palm. "Marry me, Alex. I'll make you happy, I promise."

She looked into his eyes and believed him. He was totally, utterly, absolutely serious. And while that scared the hell out of her, it also made her wonder what married life with him would be like.

"We can get married by Elvis," he joked, and then said the thing that tumbled all the defences she'd set up since Joe died. "And I don't want to be lonely anymore."

In the wake of his confession she couldn't think of a single reason why they shouldn't get married. So she said yes. And made the biggest mistake of her life.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

She said yes. Incredibly, unbelievably, she said yes. He knew that she wasn't in love with him. He knew that he somehow manipulated her into it. And he knew that if any of the circumstances that night had been different, then they would have come home to New York exactly as they left it; as single partners who made up excuses to stay and do paperwork so they wouldn't have to go home alone.

But the gods or fate or _something_ had been smiling on him, and she said yes, and who the hell was he to argue with fate? So they were married in a little chapel on the Strip by a traditional celebrant – she drew the line at an Elvis impersonator – and before he knew it the ceremony was over and he was told he could now kiss the bride. She smiled up at him and he kissed her for the third time that night, and they walked out of that chapel as husband and wife.

"How are we going to explain this to Ross?" Alex asked as they tried to find their way back to their hotel.

"Ross can kiss my ass," he replied. "It's none of his business."

"Bobby – "

"Alex, I'm on my honeymoon. I'd rather not talk about Ross, if you don't mind."

"What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't particularly want to talk at all," he said, stopping to lift her in his arms and kiss her again. He wasn't sure how long they stood there, lips locked, but he thought he heard a giggle as he released her and she slid down his body.

"Jesus," he whispered into her hair, and then burst out laughing when she replied tartly, "Jesus had nothing to do with that."

"We need to find that hotel."

"Yes, we do," she agreed.

"Otherwise . . ." he trailed off, eyes glassy as he pictured her naked and up against the nearest wall, begging him to fuck her.

"I know."

His eyes flickered toward a dark alcove. "Maybe we could . . ."

"No."

"But – "

"No."

He sighed. "I guess we should keep walking then."

XxX

They found their hotel. And they even found one of their rooms. And as he lay in her bed, as close as he could be to her warm, pliant body, he still couldn't believe that she said yes. He couldn't believe that his partner, the woman who he'd dreamed about and fanaticised about and even lusted after for longer than he cared to admit, actually permitted him to touch her. That she welcomed him into her waiting body; drew him in deeper and deeper until he lost himself in her; that she called out his name and held him tighter than he'd ever been held before, well, he still couldn't quite believe it. But here he was, and there she was, and he wanted to wake her and tell her everything that was bubbling inside. He wanted to tell her that he would do everything in his power to ensure that she never regretted her decision. That he would support her, hold her, love her, and give her all that he could until there was nothing left to give. He wanted to tell her that he finally figured out that she was what had been missing in his life, and that now that he knew that he would cherish her and never, ever take her for granted.

But he didn't. Instead, he pressed a soft kiss to her brow and smiled as she stirred beside him. His arm circled her shoulders, pulling her even closer; suddenly the need to have her close was more important than the need to breathe. He kissed her again, just because he could, and drifted off to sleep.

XxX

Alex woke in the morning to an empty space beside her and a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She crawled out of bed and knocked on the bathroom door. When there was no answer, she pushed it open and was met by the sound of her husband – oh, god, it was true, she'd got married – singing in the shower. Before she could escape to somewhere, _anywhere_, he caught her reflection in the mirror and beckoned her in with a wave of his hand.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you," she said, attempting to back out gracefully.

"Get your butt in here, Alex," he ordered, and damn him if she didn't want to run right over and join him.

"No, that's okay. I'll wait until you're done."

Bobby stepped out of the shower and dripped his way over to where she was standing. She took a tentative step backwards, but he was in front of her before she knew it. "C'mon, wife. Take a shower with me. It'll be fun, I promise."

As his eyes travelled lasciviously over her body, she realised that she had forgotten to pull a robe – anything – over herself and was standing there bare assed naked.

"We don't have time for this," she started to bargain. "Our flight –"

"Doesn't leave for another four hours. Come on, Alex. I'll soap you up and then rub you down."

She wanted to argue, to resist even, but her body had other plans. He grinned as he watched her struggle, then dragged her over to the shower when he saw which way the battle was going.

"You better not make us miss that flight," was the last thing she was able to verbalise before he took control and set about toying with her.

"I'm sure as hell gonna try," he replied, and at that particular point she no longer cared.

XxX

It wasn't until they were on their way back to New York that the full impact of what they had done hit her. She had married her partner. _Her partner._ The one man who was supposed to be off limits. There was no way she could stay married to him, no way.

With his potent mix of helplessness and genius (which in turn touched her heart and made her want to smack him), goofy charm and unrelenting righteousness, bedroom eyes and uncanny insight, it was far too dangerous. He was a walking contradiction who knew everything, who _saw_ everything, and he would consume her. And then there was the fact that he was on the job, and she'd sworn that she'd never get involved with another cop again. She knew how those fairy tales played out and she didn't want to be there when this one hit the fan. She couldn't go through that again.

"Quit it," she said, as she closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the head rest.

"I'm not doing anything," Bobby replied innocently.

She was too tired to argue with him, and besides, as long as his hands stayed on her thigh they weren't delving into other places.

"But I could if you wanted me to."

She couldn't help it; she laughed in spite of herself and didn't protest when he pulled a blanket over the two of them so they could play in private.


	3. Chapter 3

The cab swung by Alex's house first, and Bobby got out with her. He paid the driver and followed her up the stairs and before she could turn around and ask him whether or not he was going back to his place, he'd offered to carry her over the threshold.

"No, that's okay," she replied quickly, and let herself in.

He followed her into the living room and flopped on the sofa. "So, where are we going to live?"

"I hadn't actually thought about it," she said, walking into the kitchen.

"Your place is definitely nicer," he called out. "But mine does come with some lovely tropical fish."

She re-appeared in the living room doorway. "Since when do you have – never mind. Bobby, listen. Don't you think we should talk about this?"

"I thought that's what we were doing."

"No, not about where we should live, about . . . everything."

"What do you mean?"

"For God's sake, we got married yesterday!"

"I'm well aware of what happened yesterday."

"And doesn't it strike you as . . . rash?"

"Rash? It took us eight years to get to this point, and you think it's rash?"

"It took us eight years to build a partnership, a trust. Eight years to get to the point where we can predict each others reactions. It only took us two hours to make the decision to get married. A decision that, you have to admit, we made for all the wrong reasons."

"My reasons weren't wrong."

"Bobby, come on. We were both drinking."

"I asked you how drunk you were, do you remember? You knew what you were doing."

"I'm not saying that I didn't know what I was doing. I'm saying that my judgement was impaired, and if it hadn't been then we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

"You think I took advantage of you."

It was a statement, not a question and her heart hurt at the vulnerability in his eyes. "No, I don't. I think that we just made a mistake, that's all. But we can fix it."

"I'm not your mistake."

"I didn't say that you were."

"Alex, just . . . look, you just need a little time to get used to the idea. That's all."

She looked at him doubtfully, but didn't say anything further.

"Just give it time, please. Everything will work out the way it's supposed to."

She still wasn't convinced, but her resolve was wavering. She didn't know what it was about this man that made her question her own mind, but here she was again, getting talked into something against her better judgement.

"How much time?"

Bobby rose from the sofa, closed the distance between them and wrapped her in his arms. "Oh, only a decade or two."

Alex let her head rest against his chest. "Okay, but consider yourself on notice."

"Yes ma'am," he smiled.

XxX

He moved into her house. It was bigger, brighter and definitely cleaner, and it felt like home almost immediately. He was wise enough to know that the only reason it felt like that was because she was there, but it was enough. She cleared out half of her closet space for him, allotted him one shelf in the bathroom, and told him that they'd be sharing the cleaning and cooking duties. Except for the garbage run, which she decided was now his exclusive responsibility. He agreed to everything because it was only fair and to be honest, he enjoyed cooking and was good at it.

"Where did you learn to cook," Alex asked one night over a meal of veal parmigiana.

"You live alone and you want to eat well, then you teach yourself," he responded, and spooned more potatoes onto her plate. "And I took classes."

"When did you find the time to do that?"

"Weekends mainly. I lost touch with a lot of friends these past couple of years. It was either sit at home staring at the walls or go out and find something to occupy my time."

"You could have called me," she said softly.

"I . . . I didn't want to intrude in your life any more than I already was."

"You were never an intrusion."

"Maybe. But there were times there when I wasn't very welcome."

"And whose fault was that? You were the one who shut me out and walked away. No, cut it out," she said, as he was about to interrupt with an apology, "I understood your reasons for doing the things you did, even then. But it still hurt that you didn't trust me enough to let me in on your plan."

"I did trust you. I've always trusted you. I didn't want to burden you; I didn't want to get you mixed up any more in my crazy life. I didn't want you tainted with the same brush as I was."

"That wouldn't have happened."

"It might have, and I couldn't risk it. You were the only person I had left who wasn't messed up in some way, and I didn't want to be the reason for any censure or reprimand, or even suspension, you could have earned."

"Why didn't you tell me all this then?"

He shrugged. "It was just easier keeping it all to myself."

"Well, just for future reference, the world won't end if you share a feeling with me once in a while."

"I thought we were still recovering from the last feeling I shared with you," he recalled, thinking about his confession of loneliness.

She made a point to reach across the table and squeeze his hand. "And look where we are now."

XxX

Later, long after Alex had fallen asleep, he was still wide awake. He tried not to toss and turn too much, because he knew that with his broken dreams he kept her awake enough as it was. She deserved to be able to sleep through the night, but sometimes, like tonight, he was still vulnerable enough to think of himself as a guest in her bed and as such, he tried to be on his best behaviour.

Alex probably would have laughed if he told her, but there were so many things lately that he wasn't sharing with her because no matter what she said, she wasn't ready to hear them.

He loved her. He was head over heels, crazy in love with her, and she didn't have a clue. Just standing beside her was enough for the warm fuzzies to settle over him and turn his senses upside down. She didn't even have to touch him; whether she was scolding him for leaving the toilet seat up or not replacing the lid on the toothpaste, he revelled in it all. He especially loved the way she responded to wet towels on the floor, and sometimes he threw them there deliberately just to bait her. She would start slowly with a raised brow and head tilt, and by the time she'd worked herself up to, "Damnit, Bobby, how many times do I have to tell you to hang up your damn towel?" he'd be grinning like an idiot and promising to be more vigilant in the future, and then he'd kiss her and apologise and everything would calm down until the next time he did it.

He adored her; bossiness, sarcasm, stubbornness and all, and it wasn't enough anymore that she was with him. It wasn't enough that he got to go to bed with her each night, and wake up with her each morning. It wasn't enough that she turned to him for comfort when she was sad, or teased him mercilessly when she was happy. He wanted the one thing that she was holding back. He wanted her to love him. And he had no idea how to make that happen.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Alex couldn't help it. One minute she was all set to call her lawyer and arrange an annulment, the next minute Bobby was pleading with her to just give them a chance, and she lost the ability to think rationally. She hated that he could do that to her. She hated that she allowed him to play her, and she hated that on some level, he was aware of it. What she didn't hate, try as she might, was him.

She loved him. It was that simple. She didn't want to, she hadn't planned on it, but a part of her suspected that it probably pre-dated Las Vegas, because otherwise she never would have been suckered into that marriage proposal, no matter how drunk she'd been. Her one consolation was that Bobby didn't know it. He was in the marriage for one reason only, and that was because he was tired of being alone. She understood his reasons, and she even understood why he'd turned to her. She'd seen him flounder and splinter and finally hit rock bottom, and when all the debris had cleared and he climbed his way back up, she'd been the only one left standing. So it was only natural that out of all the women he'd known, and he'd known quite a lot over the years, he'd chosen to confide in her. What wasn't natural was that five weeks after their drunken lapse of judgement, they still hadn't talked about it. He'd moved in, they'd settled into a routine, and that was it. He seemed perfectly happy with the situation but she was miserable. And she had no idea how to extricate herself from the mess she was in without hurting them both. So they plodded on, all the while aware that something had to give, but neither wanting to be the one who fired the first shot.

"Maybe we should take a trip," Bobby suggested as they were getting ready for bed one night.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Where would we go?"

"Wherever we want."

"I don't know, Bobby. Look what happened the last time we took a trip."

He studied her guardedly. "It hasn't been so bad, has it? Being married to me?"

She wanted to tell him that she loved being married to him. She wanted to tell him that she hated it. She wanted to tell him that he had her tied up in so many knots that she didn't think she'd ever be able to unravel herself. And she wanted to tell him that it was his fault, because he was the one who'd made her fall in love with him in the first place. But she said none of those things, because even though she meant them, she wasn't ready for the repercussions of that admission. She wasn't ready to lose him.

"Alex?"

"No," she sighed, kicking herself mentally for being so pathetic. "It hasn't been so bad. Discounting your snoring, of course."

"I thought I told you that I didn't snore."

"You did. But you lied."

He chuckled and pulled the covers down. "I don't know if I want to sleep with someone who thinks I'm a liar."

"You know where the couch is. I might actually get some sleep tonight."

"Ouch. That hurt," he said as he climbed in.

Alex waited for him to move over, but he settled down. "Did you forget which side of the bed you sleep on?" she queried.

Bobby grinned. "I'm just warming it for you. I know you hate getting into a cold bed."

That was new. She quickly backed away from where that gesture was leading her. He was just a thoughtful man, that's all. It didn't mean anything else. "Maybe I should invest in some earplugs if we're going to stay married," she joked feebly.

Bobby stilled. "Why wouldn't we stay married?" he asked casually.

So many reasons. Because he didn't love her. Because she loved him too much. Because it was getting harder and harder to hide how she felt. Because the longer they stayed together, the more she began to think that settling for a one-sided relationship wasn't so bad. Because she was starting to think that maybe she could love him enough for the both of them, and she knew how completely fucked up that was. Because he could never, ever, know how she felt or it would kill her. "No reason."

"Then why'd you say that?"

"I don't know. Do you have to analyse everything I say?"

"I don't," he protested.

"You do, and it's very annoying."

He thought for a minute and then scooted over to his side of the bed, and propped himself up on his side. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to. It's just . . . this . . . _us_ . . . we're so new, and most of the time I feel like I'm standing on quicksand. But if I can figure out what's going on in that head of yours then I can stop sinking and I wouldn't be so unsure all the time."

The thought of Bobby poking around in her head and discovering her secret terrified her. She climbed into bed and said, "Stay out of my head, Bobby. Husbands aren't supposed to know what their wives are thinking. Ever. It's what keeps them on their toes."

He leaned over to kiss her. "Is that right?"

"Yes."

"I bet I know what you're thinking right now," he teased.

"I doubt it," she retorted.

"You're thinking about how soon you can end this conversation so you can jump me."

She snorted. "Don't flatter yourself."

He groaned and kissed her again. "Then why is your hand in my pyjamas?"

He hand crept further down and squeezed. "It slipped," she whispered into his mouth.

"Is it going to slip again?"

"It might."

"Is there anything I could do to induce it to –"

"Shut up," Alex said, as her lips left his mouth and attacked his neck. "You talk too much."

They were so messed up, and this, what they were doing now, was all wrong; she knew it was, but she couldn't bring herself to stop. She wanted him, and he definitely wanted her, and they were married, weren't they? So what if it was just sex? Plenty of relationships were sustained by sex. And so what if he'd never once mentioned love? That was actually a blessing, because if he'd been one to murmur words of endearment and devotion in bed then she would have known he was lying, and she didn't think she could stand that. They had . . . _this_, whatever it was, and in bed, at least, it worked for them. She'd worry about secrets and lies and trying to keep herself from being swallowed by him in the cold harsh light of day.

Here she could pretend, at least for a little while, that she was loved.


	5. Chapter 5

Notes: Sorry that it's taken so long between chapters. RL has a habit of rearing its nasty head and bursting the fandom bubble every now and then. Also, thank you to all the readers for your lovely and encouraging reviews/private messages.

XxX

The next morning they both came to a silent decision on the way to work. "It's time," Bobby said, as he wove his way through traffic. He didn't know why, but while Alex liked to drive on the job, she preferred him to drive off the clock. It was something he kept meaning to ask her about, but somehow he always got sidetracked. It was cute as hell and appealed to his less-liberated side (not that he'd ever tell her _that_) and so normal and couple-ish that he took joy in it whenever they got in the car. Tomorrow, he vowed; he'd ask her tomorrow. In the meantime he had to concentrate on the road.

"I know," she replied. "He's not going to be happy."

"I told you what he can do, remember?"

"Please refrain from telling the captain to kiss your ass," she berated. "It won't go well if you get your panties in a twist."

"If I get my panties in a twist," he repeated, chuckling. "Relax, I'll play nice."

Alex expelled a breath in relief.

"Just as long as he does," he added.

"Bobby –"

"Okay, okay. Look, I know we need him on our side of the table for this. I'll be good."

"I'll believe that when I see it," she snapped. "You can't help yourself; you rub each other the wrong way and before we know it you'll be suspended again and I'll be busted down to traffic duty."

"Alex, this is important. Trust me, I'm not going to say anything to jeopardise our partnership."

She didn't say anything, just stared out the window.

"Hey." She had to know that he'd never let anything, or anyone, come between them again. "Alex."

She looked over at him. "Okay," was all she said, but it was enough.

XxX

Half an hour later Bobby took a breath and turned to Alex. "You ready?" he asked.

They were standing outside Ross' door, ready to bite the bullet and confess their sins.

"No," she shook her head. "I changed my mind."

"It's been over a month. We have to tell him," he said gently.

"Why don't you tell him then?"

He decided to try humour to get her back on the same page. "You're hanging me out to dry?"

"A true knight would fall on his sword for a lady."

"Maybe. But a true lady wouldn't do the things you did to me last night."

Alex sighed. "Fine. I'll go in with you. But you do the talking."

"He likes you better, maybe you should do the talking."

"Oh, I'm not doing that."

"Chicken."

She smiled at him, and then the door opened and Ross asked, "Was there anything in particular, detectives, or do you just like standing outside my office?"

Bobby looked at Alex, and she looked at him, and neither of them responded.

Ross sighed. "This can't be good," he said. "You'd better come in."

He ushered them into his office, and sat behind his desk. He motioned for them to take a seat. "Okay, who's going to go first?"

When neither of them looked like they were going to reply he said, "One of you has to start, and I think it's going to be you, detective Goren."

Bobby squirmed in his chair. "Okay. Well, see, it's about Vegas."

Ross waited for him to continue.

"The thing is . . . Alex and I . . . we ah . . . we kind of . . . we got married."

"I'm sorry," Ross said, shaking his head as if to clear out the cobwebs, "I must be hearing things. I thought you said you got married."

"I did. We did."

"You got married?"

"Yes."

"No you didn't."

Bobby nodded. "Yes, we did."

Ross looked over to Alex, who was trying to look as unobtrusive as possible while following the conversation avidly. "You married him?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yup."

"Of your own free will?"

Something about the tone he took got her Irish up. As if Bobby wasn't good enough to marry. As if no woman in her right mind would voluntarily tie herself to him unless she was under duress. "Yes," she replied, a little sharply. "Of my own free will."

"You stood in front of a minister and said 'I do'?"

She straightened in her chair, and then replied, "I'm not sure if he was a minister, but yes."

"You got married."

"Yes."

"To each other."

"Yes."

Ross was silent for a long time. Bobby started to wonder if maybe they'd done something that would irrevocably hurt their partnership and started to sweat. Finally, Ross found his voice and asked, "You guys didn't do anything on my desk, did you?"

"On _your_ desk, Captain? No, I don't think so," he laughed, at the same time as Alex sputtered.

"I guess I should congratulate you then," Ross said, and stood to offer Bobby his hand. "I always wondered if you two had a thing."

Bobby got to his feet and shook his hand. "It was . . . kind of sudden. It took us by surprise."

"And now you're married."

"And now we're married."

"There's no middle ground for you, huh? You couldn't have, oh, I don't know, dated for a while first?"

"We knew what we wanted," Bobby said, throwing a smile back over his shoulder to Alex, "and we didn't want to wait. When you know that you're supposed to spend the rest of your life with someone you don't want to play games."

Alex was amazed at the ease in which the lies rolled of his tongue. She gaped at him as Ross came around the desk to congratulate her with a kiss on the cheek.

"I wish the both of you all the best, then."

"Thank you," she murmured, still reeling from Bobby's declaration.

"Is this going to make things difficult for us?" he asked.

Ross appeared to think about it for a moment. "I'll see what I can do," he said finally. "I can't promise anything, but I'll try."

"Appreciate it, Captain," Bobby replied, and started moving towards the door. Alex got up to follow him, and then her world came crashing down around her when Ross asked one final question.

"So just out of curiosity – when did you know?"

Bobby stopped and turned around. "When did I know what?"

"That you were in love with your partner."

The words came out before he could stop them. "I've always loved her."

The silence that followed those words was deafening. Ross said something; Bobby couldn't for the life of him remember what, but he thought he might have mentioned his desk again because he was smiling when he said it, but all he could think about were those four little words. He couldn't believe that he'd lost control like that and betrayed himself. He'd put up walls and barriers and buried those words 20 000 leagues under the sea, in a reinforced steel chest to boot, in order to stop them from getting out, and as soon as someone asked the question he just handed Alex his heart on a platter. He wanted to snatch them back, to erase the memory of them forever, but they were out there, and Alex had heard them, and he froze.

He uttered those words and then he did nothing and said nothing and willed her to believe that he only said them because his captain had asked. He saw a question in her eyes and it scared him. All of a sudden he couldn't risk her knowing. He couldn't risk that she might not feel the same way. He left those four words out there, the proverbial elephants in the room, and then he left the room itself, because he couldn't stay in there any longer.

He walked away and left her there and he knew there would be consequences, because she was a detective and her spidey sense had to be tingling, but he didn't care. All he could think about was that pretty soon she'd realise that he hadn't been lying, and he couldn't talk his way out of it or take it back because she had an innate bullshit metre that has his number, and she wouldn't buy it.

He was fucked, and he knew it.

tbc


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes**: Thank you to all the people still reading this, even though I've been a bad author and haven't posted as often as I should. I'm working on that RL stuff so hopefully I'll have more time to write. A big thank you to all those who review; you make my day with your lovely words, you really do. :) And now onto the next chapter.

XxX

_I've always loved her._

Alex slammed the phone down and took comfort in the fact that Bobby winced. He'd crossed the line, and now he was avoiding eye contact because he knew it. No matter what their personal situation was, as screwed up and dysfunctional as it was turning out to be, she was pissed that he could lie so convincingly to other people about his feelings for her. It infuriated her, because for a split second she'd almost bought into the lie. It was so smooth and so natural and she couldn't detect any deception in him at all. It made her wonder what else he'd lied to her about, because if she couldn't sense when he was telling the biggest whopper of all time, then she was in more trouble than she realised.

_I've always loved her._

She knew it wasn't true. But in that moment after he'd said it, when Ross was grinning at Bobby and he was looking at her with an apology in his eyes, she thought she saw a flicker of something else that made her heart skip a beat. Then as quickly as it appeared it disappeared, and she couldn't be sure that she'd actually seen anything at all. She hated him for that. For making her think, even for a moment, that he felt what she felt was worse than the actual lie itself, because she should have known better. She'd watched him work his magic on countless suspects, listened as he spun a seductive web of words around them, mentally sighed when without fail they fell under his spell, and smiled when they realised, too late, that he'd merely led them a merry dance; that they were the tools of their own destruction. And he'd almost done it to her.

It was inexcusable that she'd let her guard down long enough for him to slip under. She'd known he was there, under her skin, in her blood, for a long time now, but aside from knowing it she hadn't done anything to protect herself from the invasion. She had no one to blame but herself for the predicament she was in. No one. And that's what stung the most.

"We are going to talk about this," she said through gritted teeth, slamming down another folder.

Bobby looked up, and she felt a small bud of smugness take root at how uncomfortable that seemed to make him.

"Not . . . not here."

"No," she agreed. "Not here. But tonight you are going to explain to me why you felt the need to play the lovesick fool so vividly."

He said nothing, but the smugness had already withered and died, because despite wanting to haul him over the coals for making her almost believe, she really didn't want to confront those feelings. Not when the memory of his words were still so fresh in her mind, and she hadn't had any time to plaster over them so he wouldn't see how much they'd mattered.

"I didn't mean to . . .offend you," he said softly. "I didn't mean anything. I just . . . got caught up in the moment. That's all."

_I've always loved her._

Alex dropped her gaze and sighed. She knew all about getting caught up in the moment. Getting caught up in the moment was why they were having this conversation, after all.

"Alex?"

""Mmmm?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise," she snapped, wincing. Apologising for the sentiment was like a knife to the still bleeding wound.

"You're angry with me."

She didn't respond, because as angry as she was at _him_, she was angrier still at herself.

"How can I fix it?"

He couldn't, and that was the problem. "I'm not angry," she lied, and she almost believed it. "I'm just . . . it caught me off guard. I wasn't expecting you to say . . . _that_."

"I wasn't expecting to say it either. But I didn't say it to wound you."

"It didn't," she refuted quickly. "I told you. It just caught me off guard."

He looked at her for a long moment before speaking. "Can we just put it down to my chronic foot in mouth disease and forget I ever said it?"

Alex looked up and tried to ignore the mute appeal in his eyes. She knew all about that little trick of his; sad puppy dog eyes had been her undoing on more than one occasion. "Stop that," she said. "It's not going to work this time."

Bobby managed to look even more forlorn, if that was possible. "I'm sorry. You're married to an idiot."

A small smile tugged at her lips. She hated him. She hated that as bad as she felt, he could still make her want to forget everything with little more than a sad face and the right words.

"I believe the traditional way to get past this kind of thing is with flowers," he pressed.

She snorted. "Try jewellery."

"Done," he said, slapping his hand to the desk.

"I don't want any jewellery."

"But you just said –"

"You don't need to buy me jewellery as an apology. You don't even need to apologise."

"But it's caused a problem, and I didn't mean for that to happen."

"I know you didn't," she sighed. "But you don't need to apologise for making up something you thought the captain wanted to hear. God knows, you couldn't tell him the truth."

"No, I don't suppose I could have."

She smiled a sad little smile and turned her attention back to her computer. It was safer than looking at him, because he was looking concerned and worried and obviously wanted to talk more, despite the fact that minutes earlier he hadn't wanted to at all. And her anger was starting to lose its bite and it wouldn't do to let him see that either.

"Alex, I would never do or say anything to intentionally hurt you. You have to know that."

_I've always loved her._

"I do," she said, because she did. It was the unintentional, throw away words that hurt the most.

"Are we okay?"

They were as good as they were ever going to get, and that wasn't nearly enough, but she nodded anyway. If he could lie to her – or more specifically, lie _about_ her – then she certainly had no qualms lying to him. "We're okay."

tbc


	7. Chapter 7

He knew they weren't okay. He wasn't stupid; he figured it out when she started distancing herself from him. It was subtle at first, but by the time he realised what she was doing it was too late. He didn't know how to get her back. Hell, he didn't even know if she was his to get back in the first place. She didn't leave though. That was what he didn't understand. She was pulling away and politely but firmly closing him out of her life, but she still stayed.

They went through the motions but it was mechanical. Sex was just sex, work was just work, and anything else that they had tentatively started to forge was forgotten. Including coffee dates apparently, because here he was, ready to meet Alex and Jimmy Deakins for coffee, at a time and place that _she_ had arranged, and she was nowhere to be found.

He stood up and plastered a smile on his face as he saw his old friend enter the diner. "Captain. It's good to see you."

"It's Jimmy, Bobby. I'm not your captain anymore."

Bobby shook his head in disagreement. Deakins would always be his captain, whether he wanted to accept it or not. "How've you been?"

"Good, good. Retirement isn't so bad, once you get used to it."

"So they say."

The conversation lagged as the waitress appeared and poured another coffee. She topped up Bobby's cup and then left when neither man wanted to order anything else.

Deakins didn't bother beating around the bush. "I've been hearing rumours about you and your partner."

"What kind of rumours?"

"That you got married. Now I know that can't be true. If my two best detectives got married I would have received a wedding invitation."

"Sorry," Bobby grinned. "It was a spur of the moment thing."

"In Vegas, no less."

"Yeah."

"So what happened between then and now to put that frown on your face?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"C'mon, Bobby. You're a newlywed. That defeated look isn't supposed to appear on your face for years," he joked.

Bobby stopped smiling. He picked up the salt shaker and started fidgeting. "I think we made a mistake. I think we . . . rushed things."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because Alex doesn't . . . she's not happy. And it's my fault."

"How?"

"Because she didn't want to marry me in the first place. I talked her into it. And I promised that she wouldn't regret it; that I'd make her happy, but every day I can see the regret in her eyes, everyday I can see that she's miserable. And I'm the one who's responsible for that."

Deakins sensed that he needed to tread carefully. He knew Goren and he knew Eames, and he knew that they both had wounds that still haunted them. He also knew that neither would hurt the other if they could help it, so he was convinced, without a shadow of a doubt, that they had married for the only reason that mattered. That they didn't know that themselves would have amused him if Goren didn't look so beaten and Alex hadn't sounded so brittle on the phone. "Why do you think she married you? Why do you think she allowed herself to be talked into something she didn't really want to do?"

"Because I played her, that's why," Bobby burst out.

"Please, Alex has your number. Do you really think you could talk her into anything she didn't really want to do? Especially something so important as marriage?"

"I did though. I knew she didn't want to, and I kept pushing. I steamrolled her. It's what I do."

"Alex is a big girl and she loves you."

Bobby rolled his eyes and shook his head. "She doesn't love me. That's the problem. I knew that but I thought . . . I don't know. I thought that once we were married and settled that she would . . . I should have known better. You can't force someone to love you, no matter how much you try. I have to let her go. I know that. But I just . . . I can't seem to . . ."

"Have you talked to Alex about this?"

"No."

"You should."

"Captain, you don't understand. She doesn't know how I feel."

"Then it's time you told her."

"I can't."

"I don't see that you've got any other choice. What have you got to lose?"

"Everything."

"But you're all set to walk away from_ everything_? What's the difference then if you tell her?"

"The difference is that maybe we could go back to what we were before. If I told her . . . if she knew then there would be no going back."

"I think you're making a mistake."

"It's my mistake to make."

"What happened to you? I know you've had a rough couple of years, but you used to fight for what you believed in."

"How can I believe in us when the relationship is one sided?"

"Talk to your wife, detective. That's my advice. From one friend to another. Do it before it's too late and you really do lose everything."

"It's already too late," Bobby said softly, standing up and offering his hand. "Alex isn't going to show, and I have to go. But it's been good seeing you."

Deakins took his hand. "You too, Bobby. Take care of yourself, okay? And try to remember what I said."

"Sure thing, Captain," he lied. He left the diner without looking back and Deakins sat back down. He took out his cell phone and dialled the number that was still in his list of contacts. Fifteen minutes later Alex appeared looking apologetic but defensive.

"Once upon a time you wouldn't have blown off a meeting with me," he said lightly.

"Things change," Alex said, sitting down. She shook her head when the waitress appeared offering coffee. "What do you want?" she asked bluntly.

"Once upon a time you wouldn't speak to me like that either. Alex, relax. I'm here as your friend. I'm not the enemy."

"No," she agreed. "You're not. I'm sorry."

"He's not either, you know."

Her face lost its colour. "He told you?"

"He told me pieces," Deakins affirmed.

"Did he tell you the real reason why he proposed?"

"He told me – yes, he did. But I don't think it's the one you think it is."

"Loneliness is a bitter pill for some people to swallow and he was no different. I just wish I could turn back the clock and steer the conversation in another direction. Maybe then we wouldn't be in this mess."

"Would you really change things?"

"Yes."

"I wonder if it would have made any difference. Maybe the two of you were destined to wind up exactly where you are."

"Tied to each other and miserable?"

"Do you know what your problem is? You're talking to everyone else about how you feel, but not to each other."

"I'm not talking to anyone. Do you think I want them to know that I'm married to a man who . . ."

"Who loves you, probably about as much, if not more, than you love him."

"You know?"

"I know."

"How?"

"I know you. I know the two of you. It's in your eyes, every time his name is mentioned."

"Does he know?"

"He has no idea."

"Good."

"Alex – "

"No. it's bad enough that I fell for him. I won't have him pity me for it."

"He wouldn't do that."

"No? You forget that I know him too. Wounded women are his special weakness," she said bitterly.

"Alex, I'm going to tell you the same thing I told him. Talk to him. This whole mess could be fixed if you just talked to each other."

Alex didn't reply.

"God, the two of you are so stubborn. How can you not see that you're perfectly matched?"

"I need to go," Alex said, standing abruptly. "It was good to see you."

"Alex."

"Goodbye, Captain."

"I'm not your captain anymore," Deakins called after her as she left. He shook his head; those two were in for a whole lot more hurt if they didn't start talking. He threw some bills on the table and pulled on his coat. He'd have to keep an eye on them; he cared about them too much to watch them destroy each other.


	8. Chapter 8

I'm on the home stretch now, folks. *g* Thank you to everyone who is still reading, and especially those who are reviewing.

XxX

Alex glanced up and shot a small smile Bobby's way as he padded into the kitchen and poured himself some juice. He looked rumpled; baggy tee-shirt, loose boxers, and a scraggly face. He looked tired, too. In fact, he looked about as weary as she felt. Still, there was something about the image he projected that made her heart constrict, because it couldn't last. Each day she wondered if today would be the last time they woke up together, or the last time they shared the paper over breakfast, or the last time they came home to the same house. Whatever they were doing was on its final legs. She knew it, and if she had to place money on it, she'd bet that he knew it too.

"Hey," he said, and sat at the table.

"Hey."

"The world still turning?" he asked, motioning to the paper.

"Barely," she replied, offering him a section.

"Thanks."

She watched him start to read, and something snapped. She really couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't pretend that she was fine; that life was fine, that everything was fine. She couldn't pretend that she hadn't made the biggest mistake of her life, when she was confronted everyday with the fact that she had. "We need to talk," she said, before she could change her mind again.

Bobby didn't even look up. "I know. But not now."

"If not now, when?"

"Later."

"Bobby – "

"I said later, okay?"

"No, not okay," she said, slamming her hand on the table. "Enough is enough. We have a problem, a big problem, and it's not going to go away just because we've both got our heads in the sand."

"I don't want to do this now."

"I don't want to do it at all, but we can't go on like this. Things aren't right between us – you have to know that."

"I'm sorry," Bobby said as he stood up and walked back toward the bedroom, "But I told you – I don't want to get into this now."

"Don't walk away from me," Alex snarled, standing up as well. She'd finally found the courage to see this thing out, and she wasn't going to be dismissed so easily. "This whole thing is your fault."

Bobby stopped but didn't turn around. "I know," he said softly, and proceeded into the bedroom. Less than five minutes later he reappeared, fully dressed, and headed toward the door.

Alex watched him as he made his way through the living room. She knew she shouldn't say it even as the words tumbled out, but she couldn't stop them. "If you walk out that door don't bother coming back."

He left. He walked out and left her standing there, and when the door closed softly behind him she slumped to the couch finally allowed herself to break.

XxX

Two hours later she was curled up on the couch when the phone rang. Alex saw the number and hesitated. She didn't really want to talk to him, but she knew that if she didn't answer now then he'd just keep calling until she did.

"Hello."

"Hi." A silence. "It's me."

"I know."

"I was just calling because . . . I don't know. I'm sorry I left like I did. I shouldn't have . . . I thought a little space might help us but it's not . . ." he sighed into the phone. "I miss you. Talking to you, I mean," he added quickly.

"I miss . . . talking to you, too," she replied carefully.

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Why do you sound so surprised? I have feelings too, you know."

"You haven't really . . . Why did you marry me? I know why I'm in this marriage, but why are you?"

"Do you really want to have this conversation over the phone?"

"When else are we going to have it? We've both been avoiding the subject, and that's probably my fault more than yours because I didn't really want to know. It was enough that you said yes in the first place. Anything else didn't matter."

"Why do you say things like that? Why do you back me into a corner and leave me nowhere to go? I don't know what you want to hear from me; you dance around with words and say so much without really saying anything at all, and then act hurt or upset that I haven't said what you wanted me to."

"Maybe I just want you to open to up to me for once. Maybe I want you to be honest with me and tell me how you're feeling."

"Right. Because you've been so up front with me. When I wanted to talk to you, you ran. So don't you dare lecture me about opening up. You need to take a long hard look at yourself first."

"I didn't call to argue with you."

"Then why did you call?"

"I told you. Because I miss you. Is that so hard to understand?"

"Bobby – "

"I don't like how things have been between us lately," he said honestly.

"I don't either."

"Can we fix it?"

"I don't know. I think it depends."

"On?"

"On why we're in this marriage. On what we want from it. On . . ."

"On what?"

"On how we feel. About each other."

"That's . . . that's the problem."

"I know."

"No, you don't. You have no idea how I feel."

"You've made it perfectly clear on so many occasions that I couldn't _not_ know how you feel," she said, the anger rising.

"You know how I feel?" he asked softly.

Her heart constricted painfully, because she knew all too well. "Is . . . is that going to change?"

He didn't even pause to think about it. He couldn't even give her that. "No. It's not."

She choked back the tears. "Then I don't think that we can fix it."

"Alex? Please – "

"I'm sorry, but I can't. I just . . . can't."

Alex hung up the phone. She wanted more, but she couldn't have it and she owed it to herself not to settle for less. Even though it felt like someone had reached into her chest and pulled out her heart, she had to walk away. She ignored the phone when it rang again, and then disconnected it when it rang five minutes later. She couldn't talk to him anymore, because she was afraid that he would figure out exactly how much she was hurting, and then he'd figure out why, and she couldn't live with that.

tbc


	9. Chapter 9

She was still curled up on the couch when he let himself in. He wasn't sure if he'd be welcome, but he had no place else to go. Maybe she would let him sleep on the couch until he found someplace else, or maybe she'd tell him to go to hell. He didn't really care anymore – he just needed to see her, to see with his own eyes that there was nothing left. After that, well, he had no idea. His life now began and ended with Alex Eames, and if that was taken away from him then he didn't know what he'd do.

He waited for her to say something, anything, but she wouldn't even look at him. And then he looked at her, _really_ looked at her, and his heart broke. She was so still and pale, and even though he could tell she'd made an effort to fix herself up, her eyes were red and puffy. He'd done that to her; he was the one who'd put that look of despair on her face, he was the one who'd made her cry.

"Alex," he began, and was almost glad when she stopped him because he doubted that there were any words to make it better.

"Don't."

So he didn't. He sat down in the chair opposite her and just waited. He wasn't sure how long they sat there before he noticed that she was struggling not to cry. He hated himself in that moment, hated himself more than he'd ever hated anything in his life, for reducing this strong, sassy, amazing woman to tears.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologise for not loving me," she snapped, staring into her lap.

It took him a beat to process what she said, and even then he didn't think he heard her correctly. "What? That's not what I'm . . . what?"

"Look, I get it, okay. I'm not stupid."

"I think one of us must be, because I have no idea what you're talking about."

"This obviously wasn't what you signed up for. But it's not exactly what I signed up for either, you know?"

"Alex – "

"No more," she said, wiping her eyes, "I'm too tired to do this anymore."

"You think I don't love you?" he asked, incredulous that she could get it so wrong. Alex knew everything. She had human behaviour down pat. She knew how he felt; she as good as said so on the phone. So how did she go from knowing that, to knowing _nothing_? "How could you think that? How could you not realise that –"

"Cut it out," she interrupted, "Just stop it, okay?"

"You said . . . on the phone," he pressed on, leaning forward to fully engage her, "you said you knew how I felt."

"I do. And I asked you if that would change and you said no. So here we are."

"But you're operating under the assumption that I don't love you. How is that even possible?"

"Probably because it's true."

"It's so far from the truth that it's not even funny," he said, smiling as something occurred to him. She wouldn't be this upset – she _couldn't_ be this upset – if she didn't feel some of what he felt.

"You think this is _funny_?" she spat. "I'm a big joke to you now?"

"No," he hurried to assure her. "It's just that I've been so miserable thinking that I was in love with a woman who felt nothing for me, who it turns out was miserable thinking that I felt nothing for her."

Alex shook her head. "It's not possible. I'd know if you . . . I'd know."

He was trying not to smile, to laugh, to cry, because now he knew that she loved him and he could work with that. Once he made her see that they had been as stupid as each other; once he made her believe that she was his everything, then it would all fall into place. "I had no idea that you loved me until this moment, so why should you be any different?"

"Because . . ." she trailed off, and he took that chance to press his point.

"Alex, we've become so adept at hiding how we felt from each other because we were scared and didn't to get hurt. But we have a chance now to be honest with each other and maybe grab a hold of some of that happiness we've been striving for."

Alex wasn't responding the way he'd hoped. In fact, she wasn't responding at all. He had to make her understand how he felt; he _had_ to. He leaned a little closer so that he was just perched on the edge of the chair and watched her until she looked back. "You're my life. How can you not believe that?"

For a second her eyes softened. But then they were all heat and fire as she frowned and shook her head. "How about because you never told me?" she burst out. "How about because you never once acted like it? How about because for a supposed genius you're the biggest fucking idiot I've ever met?"

"I am an idiot," he agreed, taking her hands from her lap and caressing them gently. "I'm the biggest fucking idiot that ever walked the face of the planet, and I'm more sorry than you'll ever know that you thought, for even a moment, that I didn't love you. But if you let me . . . please, please let me . . . I can rectify that."

"How?" a small voice asked.

"I can tell you every day how much I love you. I can show you every day how much I need you. And I can promise that if you let me, I can make you truly happy. No empty words this time, just me giving you my promise that you'll have no regrets. Can you live with that?"

He hoped that was enough, because if it wasn't then he had nothing else to give. "I . . . yeah," Alex said, smiling through her tears. "I think I can."

He was beside her in a heartbeat, kissing her face, her neck, her lips, and she somehow wound up in his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, and was kissing him back.

"Tell me," he demanded between kisses, wanting, _needing_ to hear her say it.

She cradled his head between her hands while her thumbs gently traced the outline of his lips. "I love you," she said, reinforcing it with another kiss. "And I promise that if I don't say it every day, I will definitely show it. Can you live with that?"

He didn't even have to think about it; it was a no brainer. "Absolutely."

~x~

Just the epilogue to go now. Thanks for reading! And thanks to the people who gave me gentle nudges along the way. You know who you are. :)


	10. Chapter 10

I thought I had posted this already - my bad!

EPILOGUE

"No way," Alex said with that familiar steel in her voice that he knew meant trouble for him. "Actually, let me rephrase that. No way in _hell_."

Four months ago they'd arrived at a point in their relationship where they realised that in order for them to move forward, they needed to backtrack to the beginning and do things properly. So one night after Bobby had cooked her dinner and led her around the living room floor in a couple of dances, he'd dropped to one knee and proposed. Alex had pretended to hum and haw until he pulled her down to her knees, told her she was marrying him again and that was that, but that if she wanted to play games with his heart then he'd tell her mother. Knowing how fond of him her mother had become and knowing that Bobby absolutely _would_ retell the story of his proposal to not only her mother, but her sister and brother as well as their respective spouses, children, cousins and in-laws, she'd punched him in the arm and accepted.

"You said this was my wedding too," Bobby replied. "Did you mean that or were they just empty words to placate me while you were picking out pink centrepieces?"

"I thought you said you liked the centrepieces."

"I'm not crazy about them, but I compromised. Because I love you."

"Is that what you did?"

"That's what I did. Because I love you," he reiterated. Four months after he'd first said those words he still hadn't tired of them, and just as he promised he would he said them as often as he could.

"Bobby. Come on. You're not serious, are you?"

"I'm completely serious."

After nine years together Alex knew that her husband had some dark places in his heart that would never completely heal. She thought she knew all his flaws, all his sins and weaknesses, and had accepted them because they made up who he was. But until five minutes ago she had never known about this, and she was having a little trouble getting her head around the fact that not only had he managed to keep it from her for so long, but that he didn't seem ashamed in the least. "But . . . _Celine Dion?_"

"What's wrong with her?"

The look of peaceful serenity on his face was making her want to run screaming in the opposite direction, and if she thought she had a snowballs chance in hell of making it out the door before he caught her and hauled her back she would have taken it. "I really don't want to walk down the aisle to Celine Dion. Please don't make me."

"If you loved me you would."

She narrowed her eyes in sudden suspicion. Maybe she wouldn't have to do a runner after all. "Damnit, Bobby. That argument got you our first dance song. You can't use it twice."

He really didn't expect her to give in without a fight. Luckily he had an ace up his sleeve. "Okay, I'll flip you for it," he said.

"With one of your coins? I don't think so. That's how Lewis wound up as our Emcee."

"You're taking all the fun out of this for me," he complained.

"If you want to have any fun on the honeymoon you'll drop it," Alex retorted.

There was much wisdom in her words. And he wasn't really set on Celine Dion. He just wanted to see how far he could push the 'If you loved me' line. And now he knew it went all the way up to Celine Dion. "Another compromise?" Bobby suggested.

"Okay," Alex replied warily. "What did you have in mind?"

"Since you've been so understanding about our first dance –"

"You blackmailed me for that one, and don't think I'll forget it, either."

"I did _not_ blackmail you."

"'_If you love me' _ring any bells?" she asked, in a fair imitation of his voice.

"Blackmail is such a harsh word though."

"It's a good thing I do love you because otherwise I'd rip your balls off for that one."

Bobby laughed and conceded the point. "Okay, okay. But since you've been so understanding it's only fair that I follow your lead. So I was thinking . . . there's nothing in the handbook that says we have to play something sedate or traditionally sappy as you walk down the aisle."

"Uh huh," Alex said dubiously, but waited for him to continue.

"I have the perfect song."

"I've heard that before," she snapped. "And the only reason I agreed that our first dance would be to 'Ball and Chain' was because you played me with those big brown puppy dog eyes of yours. And don't think I don't know exactly what you're doing when you do that, either. Don't even try to deny it," she added, as she saw him make a motion to interrupt.

"Do you really hate the song?" he asked quietly.

Alex sighed. She quite liked the idea of dancing to the Poison song. This wedding was going to be fun for the both of them; they could save the romantic stuff for later on in the night when they were alone. "No," she admitted.

"So then how about 'I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do.'"

Alex looked at him like he'd suddenly sprouted a second head. "You want me to walk down the aisle to ABBA?"

"Yes," he nodded, waiting for her reaction.

She burst out laughing and wrapped her arms around his neck. "And this is reason number forty two why I love you," she said, and kissed him.

"And I love you too," _my ball and chain, _he added in his head.

"I heard that," she retorted, but she was still kissing him, so it was more than okay.

End

Thanks everyone who stayed with me to the bitter end. Love you guys. xx


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